


A Handfull of Change and High Hopes

by Halo793



Series: One-shots [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, and a bagel, and a hair cut, cute little bucky fluff, he gets hot coco, hes a precious angel, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halo793/pseuds/Halo793
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a couple of free bagels...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Handfull of Change and High Hopes

**Author's Note:**

> Really, me? more fluff? I need to get my life together.... but... bucky.

He wandered into a café in a town outside Washington D.C. with a handful of change and high hopes to get something to quiet the rumbles from his stomach. He was slowly remembering things, remembering how to be human. One thing he had forgotten was hunger; when his stomach first growled it horrified him, then it began hurting and twisting with emptiness. Money was different as well. Used to be, with a couple bucks in his pocket, he could eat for a week at least… now he struggled to get enough to tie him over until the next kind stranger handed him some change. He’d become so accustomed to being told when to eat and when to sleep and even when to go to the bathroom… now it didn’t quite make sense on his own.

He stood back from the counter, frowning at the menu on the wall as he tried to find the most food for the smallest amount of money. She watched from the register as he intensely read through the whole menu. He walked in wearing dark jeans and a gray hoodie that was wet on the shoulders from the light rain. When he pushed the hood back she saw his hair was an unkempt mess. 

“Can I help you find anything?” she asked softly, pulling him from whatever thought he was deep in.

“I – uh – I don’t know,”

“That’s alright, how about some hot chocolate to fight that chill outside?”

He opened his right hand and stared at the change there with a crumpled up bill, “I – yes, that would be possible,”

She smiled brightly at him as she pulled out a plate and put two bagels on it.

“Oh, I can’t… I don’t have the money for that,” he said quickly.

“Don’t worry about it. We have to switch over to lunch food soon, so they would just get thrown away,” he went to protest again but she cut him off, “Just take them,” he nodded, “Now, what’s the name I should write on the cup?”

He stared at her for a long moment, what had Steve called him? Jake? John? James, maybe? Such a simple question shouldn’t strike such terror into him, “I – uh, Will?” he made up, though it sounded more like he was asking her.

She seemed unfazed by his wavering response, but with his decades of training he can see the confusion in her eyes. 

She shook it off and her sweet smile was back quickly, “Alright, I’ll make that hot cocoa and bring it out to you,” 

She looked him in the eyes when she spoke to him and grinned like she was truly happy to see him. He found the corners of his mouth turning up without his consent. He’d spent years controlling his face and now it seemed to move on its own, like a reflex. It startled him, but luckily she didn’t notice, and he took the plate and sat stiffly in the back of the café. 

He watched her as she worked and he watched the costumers that came and went. Her genuine smile was a constant through the day. Polite words and sweet compliments spilled from her lips to every newcomer. 

It became a routine. He would come every few days, increasing over a few weeks, at around the same time. She would have cocoa and two bagels waiting for him. He always seemed to give her a different name but she seemed fine to call him whatever he chose for the day. Her shift generally ended in the early afternoon, when the rush died down. It had been a few months since he shuffled in the first morning.

She hummed to herself as she cleaned a table near his. She sighed and leaned on the table with one hand on her hip, “How ‘bout you come with me today? Get you cleaned up a little; a real shower and a real meal. We might get real crazy and even wash your clothes,” she smiled, “Maybe then you can tell me which is your real name?”

“I couldn’t… you wouldn’t want me to… that’s kind, but…”

“Oh, hush,” she laughed placing a soft hand on his arm, “I’ll grab my things. You better still be here when I come back,” another sweet smile laced her words and by now he’d given up resisting the curve his lips took when he heard her voice.

She came back from the kitchen with a coat and her purse and linked her arm through his as they walked out into the chill of autumn. They walked a block or two in silence, the warm smile never leaving her lips and it was contagious to his own. A light drizzle fell, speckling her face and dewing in her hair. Her lips split into a toothy grin as she let go of his arm to spin in a circle with her face pointed to the sky.

“I love the rain!” she sighed cheerfully.

Bucky’s eyebrows pulled together, “Most people find it less than ideal,”

Returning to his side she sighed lightly, “Can’t only love things when they’re perfect… ‘cause nothing is. Everything has beauty, even dreary days,”

Up a flight of narrow stairs and down a dim hallway they found her door. As she turned the lock he grabbed her hand to stop her.

“James,” he said quickly before clearing his throat, “My – my name is James,”

Something in her ever glowing face changed from common friendly to a more fond look, “Well, James, welcome to my home,” she let him in and she sighed at her very small studio apartment, “My incredibly humble home,”

He stood, taking in the surroundings. A large window behind the small couch looked out over the town and in the corner behind a fabric divider her bed was unmade and looked irresistibly soft after sleeping on benches for so long. The kitchen was merely an indent in the wall and two doors stood side by side in the back of the room.

“Left is the bathroom,” she pointed, “I – uh – I might be able to find some of my late-husbands clothes… hope they’ll do for now…” she rummaged through the bottom drawer of a dresser and pulled a few options from it before handing the pile to him.

He looked around again with a dream-like smile, “Wh-why are you so kind to me?”

Her face turned sympathetic as she touched his arm softly, “Because I needed it once,” 

After a silent moment he whispered his thanks before ducking into the bathroom. The image of himself in the mirror was shocking so he tried not to look for long amounts of time. Instead he assessed the room. One toothbrush, simple towels, generic soaps and shampoos, a soft rug and flowing shower curtain. The shower he took was nearly unbearably hot, but after so long it felt amazing. As the grime whirled down the drain, it melted away some of his stress with it. Using a spare razor from under the sink, he trimmed his face and with a comb tried to tame his hair… it didn’t go well.

He shuffled out of the steamy bathroom with a comb in his hand and his face twisted in frustration, she couldn’t help but giggle when she looked up.

“Want me to trim it a little?”

“That would be wonderful,” he sighed.

After retrieving the scissors, she pulled a stool into the bathroom where the hair would be easier to clean up. He sat down and did his best to take up as little space as he could in the small room. He watched her in the mirror as she started cutting at his long hair. The contented smile was still faintly on her lips.

“My husband… he was in the military,” she whispered, “I can tell you wanted to ask,”

“I’m sorry,” she looked in the mirror to meet his eyes with a sad half smile as he continued, “I – I understand,”

“I know, I can see it on you,” she sighed, “The weight that life brings, I can see it in your eyes,”

He stared at her through the mirror, though she stayed looking at her work on his hair. She was more perceptive than he thought. Being around her was peaceful and her gently hands in his hair felt wonderful.

“That’s how you got that arm, isn’t it?” she broke him from his thoughts and he tensed at the question, “It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me. Just want you to know I don’t mind it… you don’t have to be scared,” he relaxed and only nodded in response to her question.

When she was done, she had trimmed almost two inches off, he moved out of the way while she swept the floor quickly. She took the dust pan to the trash in the kitchen while she let him look in the mirror.

“Hope it’s not too short,” she said as she poured out the dust pan.

His response came from much closer than she expected, “It’s perfect,” his voice was deep and right behind her making her jump.

He held her arm apologetically and stuttered a repetitive sorry.

Her hand touched his cheek softly, “James, you don’t need to be sorry… you don’t need to be so scared, you’re safe here,” she assured him. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek sweetly and brushed her fingers through his hair.

The moment he felt her lips on his skin he knew that she had him. He would follow her to the end of the earth. Wrapped around her finger. Something in that touch reminded him exactly who he was… and he was hers.


End file.
